


Nodus Tollens

by Paralexium



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Anal Fingering, Blood and Injury, Dating, Deepthroating, Domestication, Dubious Consent, Eddie Had A Wife, Eddie Is Suicidal, Emotional Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Power Imbalance, Rough Oral Sex, Rough handling, Suicidal Thoughts, Waylon Park Is Trying to Help, Waylon Works At A Suicide Center, a bit of feminization, dark themes, eddie gluskin - Freeform, waylon park - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:53:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22272151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paralexium/pseuds/Paralexium
Summary: Waylon Park has been working at Mount Massive Suicide Center for what seems like way too long.His own mind, having taken a huge toll after countless of calls from suicidal individuals. Some got the help they needed, while others... Yeah...On one particular day where the day had seemed painstakingly slow, Waylon get a call from a certain Eddie Gluskin. A suicidal man who just lost his wife and now seeks the comfort in Waylon Park, pleading him to go on a single date with him, to which Waylon agrees. Possibly a little too fast for his own liking.Will Waylon turn out to like this Eddie guy, or will he become Gluskins next victim in his mind games?
Relationships: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park
Comments: 14
Kudos: 105





	1. Chapter 1

“Place your hand over your heart, can you feel it? That is called your purpose. You’re alive for a reason so don’t ever give up.”

Waylon walked through the entrance to his work place, Mount Massive suicide center. He’d worked here for a couple of years but to Waylon it felt like a hundred. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his job and yes, he knew what he was going into but after countless phone calls from suicidal individuals it was all starting to take a rather big toll on his mind.

Nevertheless, Waylon continued walking through the hallway, past the reception and up the stairs in the building. You could of course take the elevator up, but Waylon wanted to keep himself in shape, hence the reason for walking up the stairs up to office on third floor. 

When the blonde entered the office, he was instantly met with the strong smell of coffee beans, Waylon was not much for coffee instead preferring a nice cup of green tea. The idea prompted him into making a stop at the tiny tea kitchen they had, bringing down a mug from the shelf and poured the left over boiling hot water into it, he then proceeded to take out a pack of green tea with lemon from the same shelf he’d taken the mug. Waylon inhaled the smell as he let it infuse into the hot water, the slight bitterness of the lemon somehow refreshed him and cleared his mind. He was ready for another day. 

Strolling out of the tea kitchen, Waylon made his way towards the cubicle that was his. On his desk was a stationary computer, a phone together with a manuscript for certain situations and a blank notepad. It was all neatly set without a speck of dust or grime, seeing as the blond always took great care of it. 

He sat down on the chair in front of the desk, set down his mug, turned on the stationary and opened the line to his phone. The only thing for Waylon to do now was wait, though not eagerly, no one would ever eagerly anticipate a call from a suicidal individual. Waylon recalled the handful of times he’d heard the sound of a gun go off through the phone, first the loud bang and if you listened closely enough you could hear the splatter of meat or brains being blown out, the imagine was not a nice one. 

A loud ringing noise brought Waylon out of his train of thoughts. Realizing it was his desk phone going of, he quickly made a grab for it, mentally preparing himself for whoever might need his help or simply need someone to talk to. Picking up the phone, the loud ringing stopped instantly. 

Waylon cleared his throat, “Hello, this is Mou-“ Before he could finish his sentence, he was stopped by the sounds of loud wailings and a gruff voice speaking, “Please, you have got to help me… “ A shaky breath could he heard, “If you don’t… I don’t know what I might do…” To Waylon, this call seemed very unusual, not to say, he had a weird gut feeling speaking to him. 

Recollecting himself, the blonde responded to the mans pleas, “How? How can I help you, sir?...” Waylon kept his voice low and soft spoken, unsure of what to do in this situation exactly and not wishing to make a fatal mistake. 

The gruff, teary voice spoke out again, “Gluskin, My-my name is Eddie Gluskin… I feel so lonely, oh, so very lonely… My wife…” a broken cry, “My wife… she died not that long ago and… She was my love! My one true love… And I lost her!” Waylon felt his stomach drop. How was he supposed to respond to all this? He felt sorry for the man on the phone, he felt an urge to help him to do anything really.   
“…I’m- I’m sorry to hear about your wife, Eddie. Is there anything, just anything I can do to help you get through this?” Waylon awaited an answer from the other side of the line, but as he got nothing he continued “Eddie, listen to me here you don’t have to end your life because of this. I’ll help you however I can, even though we barely know each other… Let me help you. You have so much more to live for.” Waylon hoped and pleaded he’d said the right thing just now, come to think of it, he had just agreed to do anything to help a man he had just met over a suicide phone call… kind of messed up, then again the blond had always tried to help however he could throughout his life no matter how ridiculous the demand or wish would seem. 

He was about to speak again but was interrupted by the now hoarse voice on the phone, “Go on a date with me…” Waylon blinked, words trying to register in his mind but not completely manifesting into his brain, so he said nothing. “Ju-just one single date, that’s all I ask you…” 

What the hell was he thinking? Why in the world was Waylon even thinking about saying yes? You’ve never met this man, neither have you any clue if he might just be a serial killer or rapist? You idiot Waylon, you got to say no to this. He knew he should listen to the voice of reason inside his head, but the leaps of his heart told him not to listen, to follow his heart through these leaps and flips it was performing beneath his chest.

Waylon had heard stories about these kind of things before, and how you could never trust a person over a simple thing like phones and computers. The thing about communicating over computer was the fact that you could ask for use of webcam before even agreeing to meet this person. Not to say that would change anything if the person you spoke to was to be an actual serial killer or psychopath. He simply had a feeling this guy wasn’t lying, and he must feel like absolute shit, so what harm would a single little date do? 

Sometimes, fate brings people together… but how they do it, well… Let’s just say it ain’t always in good spirits or on good terms.

“Okay Eddie, one date. Nothing more, nothing less yeah?” What in the world was he doing…?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The date between Eddie Gluskin and Waylon Park has come, and the two finally get to meet. Waylon has no idea was he is about to walk into with this Eddie guy and maybe he will come to regret picking up and agreeing to this guys call, or maybe, just maybe it will turn his life for the better in due time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not having updated in a long while, been busy with real life but i'm back now with a new chapter and hope ya'll will like it. 
> 
> Also, thank you for the nice comments. I always appreciate it and it gives me inspiration and want to continue my work and become a better writer!

A week had gone by since the call, and Waylon could feel himself getting nervous by the minute. They had agreed to meet at a coffee house near Waylon’s apartment where he would be picked up by the guy, Eddie. 

So, here he was on the day of their so called ´date´, waiting nervously and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. It wasn’t exactly summertime and though the blond had tried to dress appropriately there was only so many layers of cheap, thin clothing you could put on before comfort was out of the question. 

Working at a suicide call center had its perks… okay, no there were no perks to this job and his salary almost wasn’t worth it. Barely being able to live from day to day. Rent took out a huge chunk of his pay-out, then food. No wonder his colleagues kept on asking him if he’d lost weight, he was living on bread and cheese basically. 

Lost in his wavering thoughts the fidgeting had lessened and the nerves dwindled down to a calm, wandering through his own mind, Waylon paid no attention to the tall muscular man heading his way. It wasn’t until the huge man stood right in front him, merely inches away and so close Waylon could smell his musky deodorant. It was somehow calming, the smell that is. Then again, Park always had a thing for smells be it candles, perfumes, shampoos… the stronger the smell, the better. 

Looking up, Waylon was met with a face bearing a saddened smile, dull blue eyes and nicely slicked back black hair that seemed to have lost its former luster look. Mouth agape the tiny blond man had no words, all was lost as words fell to the floor and spilled all over his brain attempting to scramble the jumbled words, letters and sentences back together but always losing some on the way back. 

Gluskin saw the obvious confusion and loss of words on the young man in front of him, endearing as it was to him he decided to take pity on him and reach out his right hand in form of a hand shake, offering the blond a way out of his state of confusion. It took a minute but eventually Waylon took the right hand and shook it with his own closing his mouth again. 

Shaking his head, Waylon spoke first “You must be Eddie. Eddie Gluskin, correct?” He tried oh so desperately not to sound nervous, but suspected he failed at the weak attempt. “Yes, that is me. Pleased to make your acquaintance… Waylon, was it?” The gruff voice made the hairs on Waylon’s hand and neck stand, and shivers racked his body with minuscule tremors. The smaller made a simple nod of his head as an answer to the ravenette’s question. Embarrassment flushed the cheeks and ears of the blond with redness.

The definition of awkwardness had nothing on this encounter at the moment, silence was thick between them. Luckily Eddie decided to break the silence and then tension in air by gesturing with his hand towards his car which he had parked on the other side of the road. “My car is right over there, might I suggest we take this affair to my house? I prepared some coffee and cakes for us to indulge in.” the word ´affair´ sounded off in Waylon’s head nevertheless he paid little attention to it and was more interested in the fact that this Eddie guy had gone out his way to make preparations like this to someone he’s barely met and only spoken to over a phone, let alone a suicide phone… However, the muscular man in front of him expected and awaited an answer, “um, yeah sure that sounds nice.”

Having given his answer, Waylon followed the arm pointing to the car they were about to ride in and was stunned to find he laid eyes on a clinically white Ferrari. He felt a strong urge to ask whether this was really Eddie’s car or if his eyes were merely fooling him, yet he didn’t get the chance, his question being answered while he was tucked by the ravenette’s strong arm towards the car. It was not exactly the most expensive of the sort, but it wasn’t damn cheap either. 

Without question, the blond entered the passenger seat, which Gluskin had so kindly opened the door to. Not long after he had settled in with his seat belt, the taller had joined him in the interior of the car, pulling his own seat belt and started up the car. Before exiting the parking, spot Eddie looked over to the small man beside him who seemed to have seen something interesting on the sidewalk, smirking he licked his lips. He really had found the perfect specimen right here; he would make a fine husband in due time… together they could do what he hadn’t been able to alone… He just had to… encourage him a little and perhaps break his spirit too. Nothing Eddie Gluskin hadn’t done before and nothing he couldn’t do again. 

His train of thought came to a halt when he realized Waylon had been staring at him expectantly. Eddie smiled at him before turning the wheel, exiting their parking spot and making his way towards his house outside of the city. 

Waylon Park… you have no idea, do you? No idea, what you’ve agreed to and not a clue on how your life will turn out by that… one… fateful… call.


	3. An Agreement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A long awaited update to this fanfiction.   
> I was hit with a surge of motivation to continue this fanfic, despite thinking i would never be able to. I even got as far as planning a ending for it.   
> Expect at least 11 chapters all in all.

They had been driving for a while, no one uttering a word. Waylon had been staring out the window of the car, wondering where they were going since they’d been driving for so long. He was having second thoughts about this whole “date” ordeal he had agreed to. He had truly felt bad for this Eddie guy and for once in his life he wanted to truly help someone. 

Waylon wasn’t exactly the type of guy to even go on dates, let alone with a guy. He had never wondered about his sexuality but if he had to choose, he would say he was bisexual. However, this guy, who was in fact very handsome looking, didn’t seem particularly stable… Not stable enough for Waylon to want to start a relationship with him. 

Heavily lost in his own thoughts, Waylon had not paid attention to the fact that the car had stopped, and Eddie was standing beside him, door open for him to get out. He awkwardly shuffled out of the seat.

When he got out, he was met with a nice green front yard and beside it a huge white house. Waylon stared at it with wide eyes and mouth agape.

“This is your house?” he asked, still staring at the modern white building. When he’d agreed to this, he had not expected… well, this. It would seem to Waylon that Eddie was not without money, not even close to an empty wallet. 

At Waylon’s words, Eddie scratched his neck. He went up to stand by Waylon’s side, “Yes, my late wife and I did some… unconventional jobs.” At those words, Waylon ended his staring contest with the house, instead letting his eyes wander to Eddie. Unconventional jobs he said, what is that even supposed to mean? 

He was about to ask; however, Eddie placed his hand on top Waylon’s shoulder, slightly pushing to make him move forwards. It was a light pushing, but somehow Waylon got a feeling that if he were not to obey, the pushing would turn harsher.

“Don’t you worry about that. Besides, it would bring you into to unnecessary danger. Let’s head inside and get a cup of coffee, yes?” With no time to answer, Waylon followed. The heavy hand still on his shoulder. 

Upon entering the house, it was evident to Waylon that this, was a modern home. A villa of sorts. It was spacious, multiple big windows littering clear white walls and a long way up to the ceiling. 

Eddie let his hand drop from Waylon’s shoulder, going ahead to the kitchen. He took out two mugs, white as the walls surrounding them. He also brought out a plate, placing biscuits on it. 

Waylon found himself sat in the living room; he could see everything happening in the kitchen. At least he would be sure the other wasn’t trying to poison him. Would that even make sense? This guy had wanted to kill himself not long ago, he would have no reason to go ahead and kill Waylon. 

Maybe… wait, maybe this was all part of his plans.

He hadn’t long to develop his panic, a plate of biscuits and coffee mug were placed in front of him. Too many times now, Waylon found himself deep in thought. That could turn dangerous, he had to be on edge with this one. 

It was not unlike Waylon to panic in unknown situations, no matter what that situation might be. Yet, he agreed to a “date” with an unknown, suicidal guy he’d only spoken with over the phone. And now he’s inside his house drinking coffee with him. 'What the actual fuck have you done to yourself, Waylon? You seriously fucked this one up.'

When Eddie sat down on a sofa on the opposite side of the coffee table, Waylon decided that he’d been left in the dark long enough. He needed answers. No, He demanded answers.

He leant forward, grabbing the mug. Waylon opened his mouth, quickly closing it again. He hadn’t prepared any questions, there were so many to ask. 'Just pick one, Waylon.'

“W-why… Why did you want to commit suicide?” Great way to start Waylon… No, truly.

The tall man showed no facial changes. Perhaps, he’d expected the question to come at some point, and he knew the answer. It didn’t bother Eddie, the answer that it. 

“Hm… As you know, my wife died. She was the love of my life. We’d known each other since high school and were sweethearts since the beginning of university. It took me by surprise when they told me she was dead… I never got to see her, never got to say goodbye to her one last time…” A glum atmosphere settled in, but there was something else to the air. Something unsettling. 

Waylon stayed quiet, letting Eddie gather himself before continuing. 

A deep breath was taken, “Losing her… I see no way to continue living. If I cannot live my life without my true love, what am I supposed to do then? Don’t you see Waylon, it’s not a life worth living.” Eddie paused, “However, if I were to find a new love… A new true love. Then maybe, just maybe I could find a meaning, if but for a time.” 

The atmosphere changed once again, this time into a more hopeful one. Eddie wished for true love, something to replace what was lost. Waylon was not sure what to say. Funny, how a guy working in a suicide center didn’t know what to say in this kind of situation. 

Just as he was about to say something, anything, Eddie cut him off with a question of his own. “Why do you work at a suicide center, Waylon?” It was a simple question. 

“uh… well, I suppose you could say I work at the center because I want to help. When I grew up my parents always told me I would never become anything, I would never be of use to anyone. I wanted to prove them wrong, show them I could change people’s lives… It’s starting to take a toll on me, listening to it every day… hearing the last words, the gunshot or the gurgles of death.” A lump began to form in his throat the more he spoke, images of the unseen and the sounds ringing inside his mind. 

Eddie seemed unfazed, patiently waiting for him to finish. So, Waylon continued. “I have thought about quitting the job, but if I do, I won’t have anything to live for either. I’ll lose my apartment, and my parents will look at me with disgust and shame. Sure, I could just find another job if not for the fact that I have no qualifications. It would be impossible.” When he’d uttered the last sentence, Waylon fell back on the sofa, huffing out a heavy sigh. It never was easy to talk about his parents and their endless shame towards their useless son. 

“So then, why did you agree to go on a date with me?” Eddie spoke, bringing Waylon out of his trance. That’s, what? The fourth time he’d spaced out in the span of a day.

It was certainly a good question. However, it was not simple like the last, and that scared Waylon. He should have the answer for it, especially since he’d agreed to it. What should he answer? 

“I- I actually don’t know… uh- I mean I’m not sure. I could’ve asked you the same. Then again, you’re trying to find someone to replace your late wife. Perhaps, you simply need someone to talk to. Which is fine, I’m more than willing to listen. “He paused briefly before he continued, “I suppose I too have the need to find someone I can talk to, someone who won’t judge me. I’ve never had a relationship, let alone friends. Maybe that’s my reason for agreeing.” It wasn’t a complete lie. 

The tall man opposite him nodded, he looked to be thinking about his own answer. His broad right hand went up, combing through his black slicked back hair. “Reasonable answer, dear Waylon. However, in my case I am not looking for someone to ‘just’ talk to.” Eddie admitted. “No, I’m looking for my next true love. I chose you, Waylon.” Eddie reached for a biscuit, brought it to his mouth and took a loud crunchy bite, echoing throughout the spacious living room. 

What Eddie had told him did not seem to register within Waylon, hence his silence. He must have misheard, ‘chosen me’ he’d said. What is that even supposed to mean? 

'What do you think it means Waylon, you idiot?'

“Chosen me, bu-but wait, what do you mean? This was supposed to be a one-time thing. You can’t choose me; you can’t make me stay here if that’s what you’re insinuating.” Waylon was beginning to panic as everything settled inside his mind. Slowly the puzzle pieces fell into place. 

Through his panicked stream of words, muffled laughter could be heard. Eddie was humored by the amount of panic he had managed to bring forth from the younger man. “Now Waylon, I can do exactly as I want to. This is my house, and you have no way of escaping as of now. You’ll do as I command and if I find you to satisfy my needs in my period of grief, or till I no longer desire to die, you’ll be free to leave. I would say that’s a win-win situation, wouldn’t you agree?” Maniacal laughter boomed from Eddie’s throat. 

“Come on Waylon dearest, say yes and you shall have your freedom soon enough.”

What was he supposed to do? No matter what he said, he was stuck here. He had nowhere to go and no one to call out to either. He’d brought this upon himself, that much he knew, but how deep a grave he’d dug he had no idea. 

'Think positively Waylon, this is perfect. You’ll be able to get a tiny vacation from your daily life, and who knows maybe Eddie isn’t such a bad guy… He’s a maniac, for sure. You’ll be able to get away from your job…'

“Wait-wait, what about my job? Haven’t you thought about it? If I were to go missing with no warning, surely my boss… my co-workers, they would be worried and look for me? Right?” His sentences died out slowly, no one would actually know he was gone, that much he knew. It is but a faint hope, and his mind trying to give him the slightest piece of faith. That all would be okay. 

It wasn’t going to be okay. 

Eddie got up from the sofa on his side, making his way towards the one Waylon occupied. He sat down beside him, one of his arms casually laid upon the back of the sofa. His big, broad hands went into Waylon’s hair, gently tucking at it. 

“Don’t worry my sweet, I’ve got it all taken care of. No one will miss you anyways, and I will take such great care of you. That is, if you do as I say, when I say it.” Waylon felt the tiny hairs on his neck stand up. The baritone growl coming from Eddie as he uttered those words, sent chills down his spine. 

“Now then, I have a job I need taken care of. Be a darling and figure out the way to the bedroom, I’m sure you’ll find it soon enough. Better get acquainted to it quickly.” 

With that said, Eddie left. Waylon was now alone in the big house, the silence suffocating him. Mind reeling with questions he got no answers for, trying so hard to adapt to the changes and failing. 

…” What the actual fuck just happened?” he sobbed, for it was the only thing he could.


	4. Learning Curves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Waylon tries to adapt to his new setting in Eddies home, however he is having some struggles.  
> When Eddie finally arrives home in a hour where Waylon hasn't already fallen asleep, he is met with a disappointed "husband" and by Eddie's ideals punished accordingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have finally gotten a beta so hopefully this will help me get the most out of my writing, get better at it and also to get better chapters out for ya'll.   
> Hope you'll like this chapter, and I will seriously try to get more chapters out asap.   
> Beta'ed by Nelthalen (Go check out some of our fanfictions we've written together).

It has been a couple of days now, and Waylon has adapted (however much one person can adapt to this current situation) to his new day to day life. To put it simply, he spent his day playing housemaid. In the morning he would wake up in the king size bed in Eddie’s bedroom, alone. Waylon was unsure whether Eddie had ever been in the bed with him. Or perhaps the man simply had not been home, and if he had, maybe he had spent the night in the guest bedroom. 

Now, Waylon did not mind, and cared even less for that fact. He was glad to be left in peace, even if it was a bit solitary sleeping in such a big bed all alone. 

Today was no different than the others. He woke up, got in the shower, dressed himself in the new clothes Eddie had bought. “For you, my sweet. It will suit you well. Yours truly, Eddie.”, was what the note laid on the folded clothes had said. With a disgustingly red heart adorning the bottom after Eddie’s name. 

Waylon’s first thought was of disgust. Sure, he had agreed to this utterly ridiculous request of Eddie’s, but that did not mean he would play along and not act out on it. It was inhumane to expect Waylon to let Eddie smother him like he was a maiden. Should he let this continue, there was no telling what would happen to Waylon, and he could do nothing to stop it from happening. 

Once he had finished getting dressed, Waylon went on his now “usual” rounds of cleaning the house, preparing himself a bite for lunch and maybe sneak in a nap. He had no idea when to expect Eddie, not like he was missing him. Nevertheless, it did get a bit lonely around the massive house with no means of communication to the outside world. Waylon might just be desperate for a bit of socialization, despite his only available option to accomplish this being with a crazy maniac like Eddie Gluskin. And wasn’t that a pretty thought?

It was not before late evening; that Eddie finally showed his face. As for Waylon, he found himself a bit annoyed and frustrated by this fact. You see, Waylon was expected to wait up for Eddie to come home before he could even go to bed all, today of all days. The first couple of days during his stay in the house, he was told he could simply go rest whenever he wanted. However today, Waylon found a scribbled note asking him, no, commanding him to wait up no matter what. 

Eddie hung up his coat on the rack, took off his shoes and made his way into the living room where Waylon was seated, looking particularly pouty for an adult male. Eddie, utterly unphased by the aura Waylon was emitting, made his way towards him. Where he proceeded to grab Waylon’s jaw, forcing him to look up. A pair of lips locked unto Waylon’s and for a second, he stopped breathing all together. 

“Hello, my darling, how has your day been, hm? Good I hope?” Eddie asked nonchalantly, as if he had not just kissed Waylon on the lips, and left him gapping like a fish out of water. 

Confusion evident on Waylon’s face soon turned into that of anger. What the actual fuck…, and that thought is exactly what he was going to say, “What the actual fuck do you think you’re doing?! You just come here, kiss me on my fucking lips, ask me how my day has been?!” Waylon was beyond furious. He had agreed to stay here with Eddie and play housemaid, but never ever had he ever agreed to this… this shit. 

Moreover, that had been Waylon’s first kiss… Ruined and stolen by a psychotic piece of shit, and he was a guy too!

…. why, did Waylon kind of… like it though? Was he turning crazy, losing his absolute mind? Well, that went fast, huh Park. You already lost your marbles, and it has only been a few days. Working in that suicide center sure did wonders for your already weak-ass brain. 

Whilst Waylon had his inner conflict, Eddie had ignored his sudden outburst of anger, sauntering into the kitchen where he was expecting Waylon to have prepared dinner for them both. Okay, perhaps he had hoped for a meal only for himself. That way he would have Waylon sit beside him on the floor, begging for scraps of food off his plate, and Eddie would gladly give some to him. 

Eddie was disappointed quite quickly when it became evident the kitchen lacked any sort of food, not even any faint smell of cooking was apparent in the air. 

Furiously, face masked to hide his anger, Eddie sharply turned around to where he had left Waylon. With a deep intake of breath, Eddie asked “Honey, may I ask what happened to dinner? I expect you to have dinner ready when I finally come home in time for it.” He paused, waiting for Waylon to explain himself, yet he didn’t give him much time before he continued on. “Terribly rude of you my dear. So terribly ungrateful you are”. There was an edge to Eddie’s voice, and Waylon heard it clearly. He heard it and it made him shiver, and not in the good way mind you. This edge was intended on dealing out punishment. 

Even despite Waylon’s rational thinking, telling him, no… screaming at him that Eddie was mistaken. He had not been told, could not have known that Eddie would have wanted dinner for when he got home. Hell, he did not even know when he would have arrived home, so how could he have prepared dinner for them. The food would have gone cold no matter what…

Yet… Waylon felt disappointed in himself, he was feeling terrible about not having dinner ready. He would have to make it up to Eddie somehow, he just did not know how to go about it. 

“I… I am very sorry, Eddie. Re-really, I am! Let me make it up to you. I can cook you something right now, yes? Anything you’d like!” Waylon tried desperately. It was already too late though.

In the blink of an eye, Eddie was before him. He seized hold of Waylon’s left wrist, yanking hard so he could pull him up from his seat on the sofa. Once Waylon was standing, Eddie wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s middle and heaved him up over his shoulder, proceeding to walk to the master bedroom where Waylon had spent his first days alone. 

Here, he was unceremoniously thrown onto the bed, bouncing when his body made contact with the springs in the mattress. For a moment Waylon was out of breath, his vison turning blurry around the edges. 

Hovering over him was Eddie, eyes cold and glaring at him. Waylon was unsure of what to do next, hell he had not even any idea of what Eddie might do to him, the man was simply standing there. 

Waylon tried again, “E-Eddie, my dear. Listen…Listen to me, okay?” A pause, as he tried to gather words and figure out what he was going to say next. 

Apparently, Eddie was in no mood to listen to any explanation. In the blink of an eye Eddie had grabbed onto the collar of Waylon’s shirt. He gasped, a flurry of buttons from his now ripped shirt landing on the tiled floor underneath the bed. 

Eddie had torn his shirt off, though not a second later than he’d done that, Eddie was in the midst of pulling harshly on the hem of Waylon’s pants. 

Waylon tried to stop him by grabbing onto his hands and pull them away from his pants. However, this was a futile attempt. As it was, Eddie was of a much bigger and more muscular build than Waylon was, and probably always would be. 

There was nothing he could do to stop the inevitable, and the realization as to what was going to happen made Waylon’s blood run cold. He had tried to make Eddie listen to him. A mistake. He had wanted to reason with him, but there was no hope in reasoning with a grieving man like Eddie. 

Sexual frustration, was it? Not like Waylon hadn’t ever been there, despite never having had any sexual experience or encounters with any other human being. Sad, really. 

Honestly, it was embarrassing. Eddie was fully dressed, and yet had the audacity to undress Waylon so violently. Like some sex doll, or perhaps even a prostitute. 

Waylon was not a prostitute, a whore or anything of the likes.

Then again…. Why was he feeling so flustered? Feeling all hot and bothered? He... he couldn’t seriously be liking this. 

“Disgusting. Whenever something unexpected happens, you can’t quite figure out what to do about it, you always end up inside your own fucking mind. Selfish, fucking whore.” With that last snarl, Waylon’s pants were ripped off. All the way down and his briefs were going with them. A slight stinging pain went together with the pants, and cool air hitting his bare skin. Waylon distantly figured Eddie’s fingernails were long and sharp enough to have scratched him down over his hips.

Looking at his bare crotch, down towards his legs, sure enough, there were 5 red lines on each of his hips. Very tiny droplets of blood seeped up through some of the scratches. Waylon attempted to tuck his leg to his chest, only for his limbs to be grabbed by Eddie. Forcing him to straighten them out, before taking hold of his hips and flipping him onto his stomach. 

All the while, Waylon could do nothing to stop the other from what he was about to do, and it terrified him. He had lost control over the situation entirely, over himself and over Eddie. But in reality, he never really had any control over Eddie at all. He had never been home while Waylon was awake. 

Waylon felt the cool air over his bare bottom, and it sent a shiver up his spine. The only piece of clothing left on him was that of his ripped and torn shirt, now rendered useless. Before he knew it, Waylon felt a gruff hand sliding between his thighs, slowly making its way up to his buttocks. He froze, tensing up all his muscles at what was to come.

…he couldn’t contain the slight moan that escaped him. Weak, and fucked up. 

“You need to relax, dear. Look at you all tense and bothered, and I have barely even touched you.” Eddie cooed, then turned cold and distant, “filthy little whore”. It was amazing but most of all terrifying, how Eddie could go from kind of nice. To cold and distant, a man you had no idea when would lash out on you. 

Waylon couldn’t help but think of Eddie’s late wife. Did she have to deal with her husband like this? Or perhaps, Eddie had not been the man he is now before his wife had died. Grief could do a lot of things to a person, sometimes there was help for them. And then there were the cases Waylon had to deal with on the suicide center. God, he didn’t even miss his job, and it has only been a couple of days since he’d been locked inside this house. Somehow in some way, he already felt much better, despite the current situation he was in right this moment.

Behind him, Eddie began to massage his inner thighs. Both hands were now clasping onto him, alternating from rubbing and massaging his thighs and bottom. It stung slightly when Eddie tried to massage the outer side of his thighs and hips, the scratches still fresh enough to hurt.

Without warning a sharp stinging sensation hit as Eddie raised his hand and slammed it down upon Waylon’s right thigh. A strained moan escaped his mouth and for a second black spots flashed in front of him, the ceiling seemed littered with them. 

“Please… Eddie, please sto-ah!” Another harsh slap, this time on his left thigh. 

Eddie continue the onslaught, each slap resounded in the white room, the white duvet spotted with the tiny amount of blood that had seeped from Waylon’s thighs. Every time he thought the scratches had stopped bleeding; another slap seemed to get the blood flowing. 

Waylon was unsure what was stained the most. Him, or the duvet. 

The pain seemed to ebb away into a numb feeling at last, Waylon unsure of how long Eddie had kept abusing his thighs, scratching at them, massaging them only to see the black spots in his eyes grow bigger and finally filling out his entire vision. He was tired, drained and in pain.

How weak was he, to faint merely from this? Weak, pathetic, and useless beyond imagination. The only person who saw anything in him right now was the man abusing him, and he had no say in whatever happened. Waylon resigned slowly to his fate as darkness enveloped him and took him down under.

As soon as he was gone, Eddie ceased the abuse. He scoffed at the slightly blood-stained duvet beneath his dearest. Did not suit his pretty figure, nor the pale skin. 

What suited him the least though, was the hair that littered his legs from his groin, his thighs all the way down to his feet. 

“Disgusting. We’ll have to do something about all this gruffy hair now, won’t we?” He gathered he’d have enough time to finish him up before he had to go out again, and before Waylon woke up. 

With a smile, he begun. “You’ll be the prettiest of them all sweetheart, you just have to let me teach you how.” 

A razor and shaving cream in hand, and the beginning humming tune of a lullaby was all that was heard within the room.


	5. In training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this new chapter got out quicker than the previous ones, and I guess it must be due to my 9 pm – 4 am writing session at my friends house (who is also my beta reader btw give her some love ;) ). I had the sudden inspiration whilst she was playing the last episode of season 1 of Telltale’s The walking dead, and whilst she was sat making hard decisions left and right… let us just say, this chapter does not exactly bode well for Waylon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would also like to mention the fact that I have decided how I will be ending this fanfic, and it is going to have 3 different endings where you as the reader, will be able to decide which you would like to read. Of course, you can read all 3 endings, that’s entirely up to you but it is very important that you pay attention to what exactly you have chosen. I will not spoil the ending. Instead I will have a bit of play with symbolism, and though this can get tricky as symbolism won’t always mean the same to another individual, you really must reflect and think about what you’ve been reading, how these characters work and how the story has been progressing. 
> 
> Symbolism is key in choosing your ending. If you think you’ve chosen the wrong chapter for your desired ending, then by all means turn back, think once more or take a chance. It is all up to you as the reader.
> 
> Thank you again to my best friend and beta reader, who read through this entire chapter and the hell that was my nighttime writing. Horrible grammar I tell you, and sentences that made little to no sense. Teasing might have occurred, but all is well and I am so happy I have her to put meat on my fanfics with her own amazing writing abilities. 
> 
> Enough jabbering. I hope you’ll enjoy this chapter!

A couple of days later after the… Incident, Waylon had gotten up early in the morning in the hopes of that perhaps Eddie would be there for breakfast. So far, no such luck, neither so with lunch nor dinner which only fueled Waylon’s frustrations. He had pulled himself together and tried his best to make a meal for every occasion of a normal day to day life but… who the fuck was he kidding? Nothing was normal about this situation. 

“Fucking asshole. Here I am, slaving away for him and he can’t even bring himself home to the fucking table.” The last two words were screamed out in frustration, then a heavy sigh escaped him. 

This morning he had gotten up at 7 am, deciding to make himself, and Eddie if he decided to show up for once, a nice big plate of eggs and bacon. It amazed him whenever he opened the fridge that there were always fresh groceries and whatever else he might need for any meal in particular. 

As he got around to cooking the bacon, the delicious smell filling his nostrils reminded him of his early childhood days. His mom standing in the kitchen cooking, Waylon helping her crack eggs and flip pancakes. Those were the better days, before it all went to shit, that is. 

Lost inside his own thoughts, he hadn’t realized the bacon was beginning to burn. Only when the actual smell of burning meat made its way to him did he jump into action, switching off the stove and pulling the strips of bacon off onto a plate. 

He wanted to scream out of frustration, though instead he opted for swears, “Ah shit. So much for crisp bacon… more like burnt bacon. Fucking hell, can’t even cook proper bacon anymore, getting lost inside my head instead. Happy memories my ass.” 

Just as he’d plated up the last strip of bacon, arms wound around his waist. The unexpected contact made him jump and let out a tiny squeak of surprise. Turning his head around, he was met with the face of Eddie. His breath was warm and reeked of smoke, and Waylon’s ears tickled by his slight stubble as Eddie leaned in closer to him. 

Eddie’s arms tightened around him as he placed a light kiss on top of Waylon’s ear. “Awww my poor dear, what’s gotten you so tense hm?” Another kiss, this time just below his ear and to Waylon’s horror his body betrayed him as light goosebumps littered his skin. Somehow, he found himself unable to push the other away, he wanted more… Further, further and… What in the world was he even thinking?

Waylon shook his head. 

He squirmed a bit in Eddie’s hold. However, he knew the other man was much stronger than him. No matter what he could not get out of this hold. He could try yes, but wouldn’t that simply land him another opportunity for discipline? Best not to tempt fate. 

A hand came up and stroked along one side of his cheek followed up by a kiss. “I see you’ve made wonderful breakfast pretty bird. My favorite too, you would almost think you could read my mind… But no, you’re not that smart.” Waylon wanted to talk back at him for that one, however he ultimately decided it would be in his best interest not to. Those scratch marks he’d gotten from last time he pissed Eddie off still itched every now and then, though they were healing nicely. 

Which reminded him…

“You… you shaved my-my whole body… the other day.” A hum of acknowledgement from Eddie before Waylon continued. “…Why’d you do it?” At the question, the arms that had been holding him around his waist dropped and Eddie took a step away from behind him. 

Waylon turned around to face him, awaiting, fretting over the answer he would get, if he got any that is. He was rewarded not too long after. “Why I did it? Hah, my beautiful princess… all that hair, it did absolutely nothing to compliment your perfect, pale, and well-constructed body. It was a simple procedure which most certainly had to be done.” A hand once more came up to stroke his cheek. “Nothing is too good for my soon to be wife, wouldn’t you say?” 

Well he supposed… Wait a second!

He flinched away from the hand. “This was not part of the arrangement, and you know it. I will most certainly never become your husband...” 

“Wife.” Eddie interrupted. 

“Whatever, you fucking sick bastard. This was not part of the deal!” When the last word left his mouth, he shoved at Eddie’s shoulders. The man before him didn’t budge even the slightest.

Eddie sighed in exasperation before speaking up. “Listen honey, I know this is hard, but you’re being very naughty right now and I would rather not bring you over my knee so shortly after our last… hm, session.” His voice was laced with poison, and a slowly brewing anger. 

Silence filled the room. 

Unsure of what to do or say next, Waylon reclined his head in submission. In the end he could do next to nothing to change Eddie’s mind, he had no argument for the other man. Eventually Eddie took him by his arm, leading him to the table. 

Waylon’s mind was fuzzy and grey, unaware of what was going on around him. A plate of egg was set before him, none of the burnt bacon present. 

They sat in silence, eating. However, said silence was soon broken as Eddie spoke, “How about we have a bit of a movie night? I don’t have work, and it would be the perfect opportunity to… you know, get to know each other a bit better. Wouldn’t you like that dearest?” In his waiting for an answer, Eddie took another bite of his eggs.

To be honest Waylon didn’t think this to be the worst of ideas. However fucked up this situation was, and the fact that Eddie hadn’t held up his part of the deal, it… it was frustrating to know what Eddie had planned for him. Not that he wasn’t going to put up a fight but somehow, he knew… he knew his chances of getting out of this unscathed were slim, to say the least. 

Not feeling up to giving Eddie a verbal answer, he simply nodded his head in agreement to the suggestion. That wasn’t good enough for the other, however. “You have to use your words baby.”

Persistent son of a bitch….

“Yeah, I would like that.”

“Aren’t you missing something?”

…Missing? What the hell would he be missing; Waylon had answered him. What else could he want from him? “Wh-what do you mean? I answered your question Eddie, what else do you want me to say?” He was truly at a loss here.

“Oh ho dear bird, from now one you will not answer to me by my name. No no sweet pea, from now you will address me as Sir, understand?”

What kind of fucker was this dude? So now he wants Waylon to call him “Sir” instead of “Eddie”? He found it hard to believe the word would easily roll off his tongue, but he had an idea of his body wanting to betray him once again just as it had earlier, and perhaps this new way of addressing Eddie would in fact be easier than he would imagine. 

“Yes, Sir.” It was indeed easier than he’d imagined.

Waylon had barely eaten any of the eggs before Eddie took it away and cleaned off the table, leaving Waylon to sit and waiting for him to finish up. 

Eddie eyed him for a minute. “Go upstairs, take a bath and meet me in the living room.”

Another “yes Sir”, and Waylon stood up to go take the shower he’d been ordered to. Though as he got to the beginning of the staircase Eddie yelled at him in a nonchalant sing-song voice; “Put nothing but a bath robe on. Easy access will make for the best of nights.”

His blood ran cold. Easy access to what exactly? 

The shower didn’t take him long, so he put on the bath robe as instructed, for then to make his way back downstairs and into the living room. Even despite it still being early in the morning, Eddie had turned off the light, drawn the curtains. The only light source coming from a few burning candles strewn about the room.

On the couch sat Eddie, fully clothed. This did not seem very fair, not in the least. When Eddie caught sight of Waylon standing in the doorway, he smiled at him. A wicked smile, and a pat on the free spot beside him, beckoning him to come sit down. And that’s what he did.

He sat down though with a bit pf space still in-between them. Waylon was feeling vulnerable only wearing this clean white bathrobe, whilst the other was fully clothed and smirking at him, eyeing him up and down like a damn elevator. 

“Come now beautiful, I want to have a better look at you.” Eddie put one arm over the back of the couch, inviting Waylon closer. Waylon knew not to tell him no, to do as he was told. It was better this way. 

Waylon knew for a fact that Eddie could have done much worse than he had the other day, and to be frank he wasn’t too keen on experiencing it again so soon. So, with that thought in mind he scooted closer, letting Eddie’s arm slide down to settle heavily around his shoulders. 

Eddie leaned in closer, his nose in Waylon’s newly washed hair and sniffed deeply. Waylon tensed up. Next a kiss on his cheek, chapped lips scraping lightly. It was almost like you could feel the dead skin cells falling from the other’s lips, sinking into his skin, leaving behind his DNA. 

Get off, get off… god dammit. Waylon wanted to scrub at his cheek, get it away. Somehow though he knew no matter how much he scrubbed; the feeling would never really go away. Again, this wasn’t even the worst that could happen to him in this moment. He was in the most vulnerable state and Eddie could do whatever to him. 

His neck was the next to be assaulted by Eddie’s lips. Kissing at it up and down, a slight lick of the tongue and then a sucking sensation. In vain, Waylon tried to suppress a moan. Betrayed by his own body. How could someone have so little control over their own anatomy? It baffled Waylon, truly. 

“Don’t try to hide your beautiful voice. I love to hear you.” A bite on Waylon’s neck and a whimper from his mouth. Sick… Sick… Disgusting, you’re disgusting Waylon. 

“Sing me the sweetest song, my pretty canary.”

Waylon had no idea what Eddie was going to do next. He did nothing to stop it though because in some sick and twisted way he wanted to know what Eddie had in store for him, however disturbing it might be. 

He didn’t have to wait long before he found out what Eddie was intending. Not with how the knot that’d held together his bathrobe now suddenly came undone in a swift tug, exposing his bare chest and… crotch. “Only a bathrobe” he’d told him, nothing but that. 

Fingers trailed down his chest, roaming, searching for something. They suddenly came into contact with his left nipple, slowly dragging the perky nub up and down. A harsh twist made Waylon gasp, then moan as the nub was let go. “You’re so sensitive my sweet.” Eddie’s hot breath against his neck made him shiver. 

Eddie leaned down over his body; his head was hovering above Waylon’s chest. He inched closer and closer until his lips chapped stopped right before his right nipple, parted them and stuck his tongue out, ready to lap at the exposed flesh. 

“Imagine these breasts, full and heavy. Just ready to produce milk for our future children. Can you imagine them suckling on your heavenly pink nubs, feeling the fluid leave your body, giving life and energy to this other human being. Beautiful isn’t it? Life?” All of it was spoken with such a dreamy voice that it almost seemed like Eddie was already there, like he could stay in that floating dream of his high up above, never wanting to come down and not needing to either. 

Perhaps Waylon should break it to the guy now that that was not going to happen. Not now and not any time soon. “Ed- I mean… Sir, I’m afraid I will have to disappoint you. As you can see…” Waylon’s eyes looked pointedly down towards his groin, “I’m a guy… I would never be able to have your uhm… children?” Was that even the right thing to say? Hell, was any of this even right? Certainly not. 

This response did not seem to sit well with the bigger man, the man who had all control over him. Had he kept his fucking mouth shut he wouldn’t be met with cold eyes staring at him in what Waylon had come to know as cold rage. The same look he had been met with on his first day of discipline. 

Before he knew what was happening, Waylon found his legs folded up to his chest, spread apart by sheer, crushing force. He sat here, bare bottom exposed. Eddie moved position from the couch down to the floor in front of Waylon. If he had felt exposed just before… that was nothing compared to this position. 

He wanted to cry out of embarrassment, but what good would that do him. If anything, it would make Eddie angrier with him for being weak. He was already irked with him, so Waylon gave into the sob that escaped him. Taking a sharp inhale, letting another sob wreck throughout his body. 

“Please… Just, stop it. Why are you doing this? This was not part of our deal… an-and you, you don’t even like guys…. So why?!” Waylon cried out, frustrated. He understood nothing.

Waylon got no answer from the bigger man. Instead, he felt a strange prodding sensation around his puckered hole. A place which things were supposed to go out, not in…. “Shut the fuck up. Shut up if you know what’s good for you.” It was said in such a cold tone the room felt almost like it was freezing over. 

The prodding soon stopped, instead the sound of a cap being opened and the obscene wet squelch of liquid coming out of a bottle was heard. Waylon could see nothing of what was happening below the couch. Could not see how Eddie was coating his fingers in lube, preparing them for what Waylon was unaware of would transpire. Seeing them thoroughly coated, Eddie brought his hand up and stretched out his pointy finger, and this time not just prodding at the hole before him but instead putting pressure, forcing his finger inside. Waylon gasped out above him, searing hot pain shooting throughout his entire body. He had never been good at tolerating any sort of pain however small it might be, he was weak like that, useless. 

Though even as it hurt him when Eddie began dragging his finger in and out with slow, yet still forceful thrusts, he never said anything to make him stop. Eventually as the pain ebbed away and the ring of muscle started to loosen up, he was no longer whimpering in discomfort. No, now it was a whimper of pleasure, of wanting more. 

He was rewarded soon enough as Eddie added another finger, this caused pain to flare up in Waylon once more though not as bad as the first time. It was only when the scissoring began that it started hurting really bad, to the point where he wanted to scream at Eddie to stop, that it would tear him open. 

Before he could even begin to open his mouth, Eddie shushed him. 

“Dear bird, I’m merely doing this to help you get used to it. This is not for pleasure, this is training.”

Training? “Wha-what do you, ah! What do you mean?” A rather rough and harsh thrust was given at his obvious mistake.

“Sir?”

A third finger joined the other two. “Training so you will be able to take my size, honey. Although I have been trying to be very patient with you, it seems your persistent little hole is not exactly happy with my intrusion. You’re a virgin. Hah…. It’s even dripping a little bit. Oh, my poor dear. Perhaps I am a little too rough with you hm…? “

…Dripping? A virgin? Wait… what Eddie is telling him isn’t that….

He wanted him to stop. Stop. Stop. Stop!

The words wouldn’t leave his mouth though, it stood open waiting for words to spill out, but none came. 

Waylon grabbed harshly at the couch fabric, scrambling for something, anything to hold onto. Something that felt real and not this nightmare he felt like he was having. It was no nightmare however; this was his reality now. This reality he had gotten himself into somehow and he couldn’t ever get out of it.

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, silent as he was, and Eddie looked up at him still with the cold glare. The pleasure he had felt before, the feeling of wanting more was replaced with dread and the want to be gone from there. For a minute he had felt good, his body rippled with pleasurable waves he’d never felt before, hell he never even knew he could feel. Yet, despite it all he knew there was even more to this pleasure he had yet to experience. If he wanted to see and feel these beautiful waves, he would have to be good to Eddie, he would have to be obedient to him and let him do with Waylon as he pleases. 

Was it worth the pain it may cause? Absolutely. 

Renewed pain was met when Eddie roughly jerked his fingers out Waylon’s hole only for Eddie to stand up, taking his large hand and filling it with a fistful of Waylon’s hair. He forced him down onto the floor where Eddie now stood looming over him. In the swift movement, the bathrobe he’d been wearing was left behind, leaving Waylon all the way exposed. It would be a lie to deny the erection he’d been sporting since Eddie’s hands roamed his chest, playing with his nipples. Through his constant war with himself, his body had known how to react more so than his mind. 

Perhaps Waylon should stop thinking all together and listen more to what his body wanted than what his mind told him he didn’t want. After all, his mind was complicating things and causing him headaches he could do without but… There was still a life for him to live, right? 

In his tumble down to the floor Eddie had let go of his hair, nearly throwing him down from the couch. He was grabbing Waylon by his hair again quickly, jerking his head back as far as it would go. “I’m beginning to think maybe your mouth would prove more pliant. Let us be honest, there is better use for this mouth of yours than whimpers, moans and complaining. Hm…. Yes, I would think so. Open wide sweetheart”

And Waylon did as asked. Opening wide, he wanted this. 

Whilst Waylon sat, mouth open wide, Eddie, managed with his free hand to unbutton his pants and unzip them. He was not wearing anything underneath, so as soon as the zip went all the way down Eddie’s hard member stood proudly before Waylon’s waiting mouth.

With the hand in Waylon’s hair, Eddie guided him towards his member. Filling the empty mouth, enveloping himself in the wet, hot cavern. Eddie groaned, and he kept dragging Waylon further until his nose touches his abdomen. Looking down at the sight below, he saw tears in Waylon’s eyes and him trying not to gag on his dick. A good whore is what he saw. A whore with promise, someone who wanted to please. Who wanted his attention despite not knowing it yet, and the feeling of betrayal from his own body to his mind… This slut didn’t know any better.

He held Waylon there for a bit, letting him get somewhat used to the feeling of swallowing Eddie’s girth. “Relax sweetie, you have to relax your mouth and breathe through your nose. Can you do that for me, now?” And then he did hear Waylon taking a deep breath through his nose. Excellent. 

Having made sure Waylon wouldn’t choke on him, he held his head in place before setting a brutal pace of fucking his mouth. Sometimes alternating between small but rough thrusts, to longer fast motions. 

More often than not as he kept at it, Eddie would feel the scarping of Waylon’s teeth on his member. He found he didn’t care, quite the opposite. He loved the pain it brought, he would never tire of it.

Waylon all but took it, hoping and begging inside for it to be over soon. Knowing the more obedient and pliant he behaved, the faster it would all end. He soon found his mouth to be empty, and Eddie having taken a step back, his member in hand as he stroked it up and down in front of him. Waylon looked up at him awaiting instructions. 

“Close your eyes, dear bird.”

Oh… Doing what he’d been told, he closed his eyes and waited. He heard Eddie groan and moan before him. The next sensation he felt was that of the hot white semen across his face. Some landed in his hair whilst the rest hit his forehead only to slowly drip down the bridge of his nose and in the inner corner of his right eye. God, he felt disgusting. Dirty. 

Sitting still, he could hear Eddie tucking himself away, zipping up his pants. Waylon went to get up but was unable to get very far before a kick to his shoulder made him sprawl onto his back on the floor. He opened his left eye and looked up to Eddie, who towered above him as he had most of the time today. 

“Fucking slut.” That was all he said to Waylon before he turned around and walked out of the living room, leaving the other lying on the floor. Cold, dirty, disgusting…. Alone, again. Always alone. 

“Hah…. Yes, an absolute slut is what I am… Sir. Only for you.” He made no effort to get up, had not the energy to do so. He continued to lie there in the darkened room, sobbing like the miserable being he was, or rather, the miserable being he had always been.


End file.
